


Dean on Demand

by rea_of_sunshine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Castiel, Asexual Character, Big Brother Gabriel, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean, Castiel is Not a Morning Person, Castiel's Terrible Family, Dean is a Little Shit, Dean is a Softie, Everybody Wants Dean, Fuckin' Fluffy Mondays, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Law Student Sam, M/M, No Smut, Photographer Castiel, Prostitute Dean, Prostitution, dean is a sexy beast, fluffy fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rea_of_sunshine/pseuds/rea_of_sunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>     Gabriel rents baby bro Cas a sex-boy for his birthday. Too bad Cas is ace. Too bad fuck boy Dean is beautiful. Too bad it could never work between them, or so Cas thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean on Demand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NuwandaSnicket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuwandaSnicket/gifts).



> This was written for the wonderful Christina for being awesome and needing a fluffy fic. Inspired by [this tumblr post](http://textsfromlastapocalpyse.tumblr.com/post/91085196273/see-more-at-texts-from-last-apocalypse-text). 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! I'd love to know what you all thought!

     “ _Happy birthday to you._ ” Cas’ eyes snap open, glaring into his pillow as though it were the one singing. “ _Happy birthday to you._ ” Cas burrows deeper into his sheets, determined to ignore the serenader. Who wants to be woken up before their alarm on any day, nevermind on their birthday? “ _Happy birthday, dear Cassieeeeeeeee._ ” Cas ignores him. If he ignores him long enough, perhaps he’ll go the hell away, and for a blissful beat of silence, Cas honestly thinks he has. His eyes drift back shut so that he can sleep until his alarm goes off like God intended. “ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!_ ” Gabriel starts back, more screaming than singing as he pulls the string on a confetti cannon and blasts a good deal of confetti onto Cas’ bed and carpet. 

     “I swear to God, Gabriel,” Cas growls, sitting straight up in his bed and glaring at his older brother. “If you leave this here for me to clean up, I _will_ kick your ass.” Gabriel, despite his being nearly four inches shorter, does not look afraid. In fact, he laughs. 

     “Grumpy puss in the mornings, are we?” Cas glares harder, if even possible. “I brought you birthday pancakes,” Gabe says, waving his hand to Cas’ bedside table where pancakes do indeed wait. As if that makes it better. 

     “You woke me up before my alarm even went off,” Cas says accusingly, reaching for the pancakes and digging into them even though he’s not happy about it.

     “Oh, I turned your alarm off,” Gabe says nonchalantly, and Cas all but chokes on the bit of pancake in his mouth. His eyes dart to his alarm clock, and sure enough, it is after 9:30, over three hours after he was supposed to be at work for a faculty meeting this morning. 

     “Damn it, Gabriel,” Cas hisses, shoving the plate back into his nightstand and jumping from the bed. 

     “Don’t bother, Cassie, I already called your boss. Told him you were spewing bodily fluids from both ends.” Gabe laughs a bit, obviously very satisfied with himself even as Cas hurries to get dressed, nearly falling onto his face as he tries to pull his shirt on at the same time as his pants. 

     “I have _responsibilities_ Gabriel. I’m sure you don’t know what those are, but they’re these things that _grown-ups_ have, things that _have to get done_ for the world to keep turning.” 

     “Seriously, Cas. Just take the day off. It’s your birthday, for Christ sakes.” 

     “I _can’t,_ Gabe.” Cas is almost completely dressed now. He is standing at the mirror trying to comb his bedhead down into some semblance of professionalism. A knock sounds at the front door, and Gabriel squeals behind him. 

     “I bet your birthday present was just delivered,” Gabe says, a suggestive grin on his face which Cas ignores in favor of abandoning the chaos that is his hair and moving to the sink to brush his teeth. The mail person knocks again, and Cas groans around his toothbrush.

     “Well, could you get it for me? I am _exponentially_ late thanks to you.” Gabe grins.

     “Nope.” 

     “ _Seriously_ , Gabriel?” Gabe grins even wider, so Cas sees that, yes, Gabe is quite serious. “My God, you are _insufferable_ ,” he groans before spitting his toothpaste into the sink and jogging to the door. “I hope you don’t want to sleep here tonight,” Cas threatens emptily, turning back to face Gabe as he pulls open the door. 

     “Hello,” the person on the other side says, eyes boggling when Cas turns back to meet him. “Holy blue,” the man says, staring at Cas with wide eyes, and Cas cannot say that he was not thinking the same thing, except, _holy green._ They stare at each other for a long moment before Holy Green breaks into a flirty smile and steps forward, pushing right up into Cas’ personal space. “I’m Dean,” he says, voice low and slick like honey or oil. Cas steps away, brows furrowed. 

     “Hi. Cas. You’re in my house,” Cas says, stepping away even though Dean follows him for every inch, that grin still on his face. 

     “Happy birthday, Cassie,” Gabriel says with a shit eating grin, pressing a pamphlet into Cas’ hand before stepping past them and leaving. Cas watches him go confusedly before looking down to the paper in his hand. _Boys on Demand,_ it reads on the front, doing nothing to ease Cas’ confusion. He flips it over, brows furrowed together as he reads. _Boys on Demand: Where all your_ wildest _dreams can come true for a reasonable price._

     “Your brother must really love you,” Dean drawls, leaning close and running his hand over Cas’ chest. “I’m your slave for a whole 24 hours.” Dean presses a kiss to Cas’ jaw, to which Cas backs away uncomfortably. 

     “Uh,” he stutters, cheeks heating as he looks at anything but the porn pamphlet in his hand. 

     “What do you wanna start with?” Dean asks lowly, backing Cas up until he is flush with the wall. Cas is still staring at the pamphlet in his hands. Needless to say, Cas is no longer concerned about work. “Page three?” Dean suggests, fingering open the pamphlet to page three, exposing a picture of two men stretched over a table, one very violently mid-thrust into the other. Cas’ face heats, and he reels farther away from the man. One of Dean’s hands slides down his chest, landing at his crotch. He squeezes gently, and with that, Cas side steps and drops the pamphlet to the ground. 

     “Could you, uh, excuse me?” Cas asks, not waiting for Dean’s response before he’s stepping away and sprinting to the bathroom. When he gets there, he locks the door behind him and whips his phone out. “ _Gabriel_ ,” he hisses as soon as his brother answers. “What the hell?!”

     “Come on, Cas, let loose a little,” Gabe says with a laugh. 

     “Let loo—Gabe! I’m not _interested!_ ” 

     “Of course you are, Cassie! I see you looking at men all the time.”

     “Because I’m a photographer, Gabe! Men are beautiful!”

     “And I hand-picked Dean-o in there _specifically_ because he’s beautiful and game for anything.”

     “Gabe, I’m not interested!”

     “Cas, I know we’ve never specifically talked about your sexuality, but I’m not blind. I know you like guys.” 

     “Gabriel, I-"

     “Come on, Cas. I paid a pretty penny for the little fuck boy in there. Just humor me and have a little fun. He’s staying with you for the rest of the night.” And Gabe hangs up. 

     “Damn it, Gabe,” Cas groans, hanging his head in his hand. He stands there in the bathroom until Dean’s voice echoes from the living room. 

     “Come on, Cas. Don’t be a tease,” he calls lowly, and Cas’ cheeks heat. 

     “ _Damn it, Gabe,_ ” Cas groans with a little more force before turning and pulling the door open. He makes his way towards the living room, the beginnings of a headache starting behind his eyelids. When he breaks into the room, he is met by Dean staring darkly at him. Cas’ eyes drop back down the length of Dean’s body, only to find him absolutely bare. “Uh,” Cas starts, his face heating as he averts his eyes. 

     “You want me,” Dean says matter-of-factly, shifting off the couch and rolling towards Cas. “I can feel it.” 

     “I don’t think,” Cas starts, but Dean is already gliding towards him, green eyes set low and lecherous on Cas’ frame. 

     “You don’t,” Dean asks with a smirk. He doesn’t look like he believes it. Cas says nothing, just keeps his eyes firmly on Dean’s so he doesn’t have to look down. 

     “Uhm, are you hungry?” Cas asks finally, and Dean grins. 

     “Mmmhmmm, starving,” he says, dropping to his knees and tugging his hands on Cas’ belt. 

     “Whoa!” Cas yelps, jumping away with his cheeks burning again. “I meant like Chinese or pancakes or…you know, _food._ ” Dean, staring up at Cas, drops the cheeky grin off his face and rises. 

     “Look, man,” he says, his face starting to look like an actual person. “I’m game for a slow build thing here, but you gotta let me know what you want. I don’t want you to be disappointed and send my boss an angry letter saying you didn’t get your money’s worth.” Green eyes stare down to blue seriously, so Cas offers a small smile. 

     “I want to _eat_ , Dean. Why don’t you, um, get dressed while I make some more pancakes?” Cas says before turning away from the naked man before him to go cook. Cas hums while he cooks, and when he’s finished, he finds Dean in the living room—dressed, it’s important to note—staring at a few of the pictures Cas has framed along his bookshelf. 

     “These are nice,” Dean mutters when he sees Cas come into view. “Are they professional?” Cas snorts. 

    “Hardly. Those were just me messing around. I got a nice camera for Christmas that year." 

     “You did these?” and Cas nods. “Wow…” 

     “You’re interested in photography?” Cas asks in an effort to take the attention off himself, and judging by the scoff Dean lets out in reply, it has worked. 

     “I know; it’s unbelievable. A prostitute is interested in something other than sex.” 

     “That isn’t what I was implying at all,” Cas says, backing up a step at the sudden coldness in Dean’s voice. 

     “Doesn’t matter,” Dean mutters, letting out a breath before turning back to Cas, his carefree smile back in place. “No one really wants to know what their sex toy likes and dislikes, now do they?” Cas stares at him a moment before speaking. 

     “Would you tell me about yourself, Dean?” Cas asks gently, a small smile on his lips. Dean’s eyes darken again. 

     “I wasn’t asking for your pity,” Dean spits darkly, and Cas’ mouth falls open. 

     “Dean…I didn’t…” But Dean has already closed his eyes and squared his shoulders. 

     “Why don’t we eat those pancakes now?” he offers, that lightness back in his voice. It is very hollow. Even so, Cas closes his mouth and moves towards the kitchen to get their pancakes. They eat in silence, and when the pancakes are gone, Dean smiles at Cas again, lips sticky with syrup. He stands from the stool and rolls his hips. “Sexy _and_ a good cook,” he drawls, stepping closer and wrapping a single arm across Cas’ shoulders. “Who would have guessed?” Dean pushes a hand through Cas’ hair, drawing the heat back to Cas’ cheeks. “So pretty when you blush,” Dean murmurs, leaning down and kissing Cas’ lips softly. Cas freezes at the contact. The kiss is warm and sticky and strangely pleasant to the point that Cas even begins to kiss back. That is until Dean shifts closer and spreads Cas’ legs apart to stand between them. Even that is not _awful_ , but the hand he drops to Cas’ crotch _is_. Cas pulls away immediately, face ablaze. A look of exasperation washes across Dean’s face before he can cover it, and it is like a punch to the gut for Cas. It is the same look that has passed everyone who’s ever even been remotely _close_ to Cas. 

     “I’m sorry,” Cas says, dropping his eyes like he always does. 

     “Tell me what you like, Cas. Let me make you happy,” Dean says instead, because it’s his job and he doesn’t want to get fired. 

     “Dean, I don’t want anything. I don’t want sex. I don’t know why Gabe thought this would be a good birthday present, but he was wrong. Don’t worry about me writing an angry letter or anything. You can just…go home…” Dean’s mouth flutters open a moment before he swallows audibly. 

     “Sorry, buddy,” Dean says loudly, too loudly for the four inches of space between them. “I was paid for twenty-four hours so I’m here for twenty-four hours.” Cas squints at Dean, but Dean is looking away. Eventually, Cas sighs and moves away from Dean completely and begins to gather the dishes to wash. Dean, after a few moments of splashing and running water filling the silence, moves to rinse the dishes Cas washes. They fall into an easy working relationship, Cas washing, Dean rinsing and drying, Cas following up and putting away because Dean doesn’t know where anything goes. Then the dishes are all gone and they are back to the strangers they are. 

     “So what do you usually do in situations like these?” Cas asks finally after several minutes of staring at each other over an empty kitchen. 

     “Situations like this don’t usually occur. Normally when people pay as much as they do for my services, I end up tied up, stretched out, plugged up, dressed up…I’ve been asked to do some pretty weird stuff.” 

     “Well I’m sure eating pancakes is by far the weirdest thing someone has ever asked you to do,” Cas says, deadpan, and Dean surprises him by laughing. 

     “By far,” Dean laughs, and it’s an honest laugh, one that is light and sounds like the color brown, the color of life. Cas smiles softly at himself for making this beautiful person laugh. His fingers itch to take a picture, but a mental snapshot is the best he can do. 

     “Would you like to watch a movie?” Cas asks with a smile, and Dean’s laugh fades to a satisfied smile. 

     “Sure, Cas,” Dean says after a moment. They sit on Cas’ couch with a respectable distance between them, the curtains drawn tight around them. The movie, which Cas offered Dean choose, is an action/thriller, and it has Cas’ stomach rolling. He’s not much of one for blood and guts and gore, so he takes to watching Dean watch the movie and ignoring the sounds of guns and blood spatter. Dean’s eyes are wide and childlike and Cas is once again struck by his beauty. He is struck by the openness he finds in Dean’s face. 

     “Why are you looking at me like that?” Dean asks, his guard flying up the instant he realizes Cas is looking. 

     “Because you’re beautiful,” Cas says with a shrug, and if it weren’t for the blush that blares its way into Dean’s cheeks, Cas might think the scoff Dean lets out is genuine. 

     “Please tell me you didn’t just quote John Green to me,” Dean says, looking back to his movie, and Cas smiles. He hadn’t meant to quote John Green, but now that he has… 

     “Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than the stories and people we’re quoting,” he says, and Dean barks out a laugh. 

     “How did I get stuck with the dorkiest guy in all of California?” Dean asks, shoving Cas’ shoulder fondly, and Cas smiles proudly for making Dean laugh like that. 

     “Just got lucky, I guess,” Cas says when Dean finishes laughing, but instead, he is staring at Cas with a loose and natural curve playing at his lips. “Well, not really…you haven’t gotten anything,” Cas says, deadpan once again. Dean stares at him, shocked for a long moment, before he throws his head back and laughs, his whole body shaking as it tears through him. 

     “Yeah, you’re right,” he says when he has calmed down. “I haven’t gotten anything,” and they finish the movie sitting a little closer together than they started it. When it’s over, Cas stands, his head spinning with the image of Dean laughing. He has to get away, get his bearings lest he do something dumb like kiss him or otherwise make him think he’s interested in sex. He’s not. 

     “Hey, Cas, wanna go out?” Dean asks, stepping into the kitchen with his car keys in hand. Cas straightens and looks at Dean, takes in his faded canvas shirt and ragged old jeans and scuffed up boots. He looks like he just rolled out of 1990’s grunge factory. He looks beautiful. 

     “Can we go to the park? I’ve been meaning to go and take some still-life’s around the lake.” What Cas really means is he wants to take candid shots of Dean around the lake. 

     “Sure,” Dean says with a smile, and if Cas didn’t know better, he’d say Dean almost looked excited. They ride in Dean’s car, a low-riding, throaty growl of a vehicle that Dean affectionately calls ‘Baby.’ Cas admires the initials carved into the leather, the army men jammed into the ashtray, and he runs his fingers over them both absently. “Sam did that when he was little,” Dean says when he sees Cas’ hands. Cas looks up, and the look on Dean’s face is a mixture of softness and longing. “The nerd always did get restless on long car rides.” 

     “Sam is your brother?” Cas asks, running his fingers over the S.W. beside the D.W.. 

     “Yeah,” Dean says, smiling a bit. “He’s gonna be a lawyer.” 

     “You seem proud,” Cas notices, and Dean laughs. 

     “Hell yeah, I’m proud. I practically raised the kid.” Dean smiles out of the windshield for a long moment before glancing back at Cas. “What about you? Is the guy that hired me your only sibling?” 

     “Gabriel? No. I have many other siblings, but he’s the only one I have any contact with.” 

    “Why?” 

     “It’s…complicated.” It’s Cas’ turn to stare out of the window, and Dean does not press the matter. For that, Cas is eternally grateful. 

     The park is chilly and covered in orange, red, and brown leaves. It is beautiful, almost as much as the smile Dean offers Cas when they stop. Dean pushes open his door and walks around to open Cas’. 

     “What a gentleman,” Cas teases, and Dean, though he scoffs, blushes a shade of dark red. Cas begins to think he is not the cool and untouchable guy he first presented himself as. 

     “So what do you wanna take pictures of first?” Dean asks, watching as Cas fiddles with the focus on his camera. 

     “Maybe some from the pier,” so they head for the pier, Cas’ camera hanging heavy around his neck and Dean’s whistle to some 80’s rock song spilling into the air around him. The little lake is bathed in the light of midday, glowing yellow and orange and reflecting the falling trees into its crystalline depths. Dean plops down on the edge of the pier, his feet inches from submerging in the cool water, and the light bathing the lake steals over Dean too, setting his shirt, his hair, his skin into a blaze of gold. Cas raises his camera. _Click!_ Dean turns and glares at him. 

     “I better not be in the frame,” he growls. _Click,_ and Dean is all that is in the frame, his face shadowed by the sun behind him. 

     “You’re not,” Cas says, lowering his camera to smile at Dean. Dean’s face softens into a smile, and just as he goes to turn back around, Cas snaps another picture, catching the remains of the smile and those eyes closed blissfully mid-blink. 

     Cas really does take a few still-life’s, a few of the trees and some of the posts lining the trails, but his true masterpieces are of Dean. Dean skipping rocks across the shimmering lake, Dean tossing a stray Frisbee back to some kids, Dean chasing the ducks, Dean looking at Cas, Dean, Dean, Dean. Cas is a wee bit smitten…

     On the ride home, Dean tells a story about Sam mistranslating a document he was working with in his ancient languages class and having it come out as breeding with the mouth of a goat. Cas is crying with laughter by the end of it. 

     “I shit you not!” Dean says, grinning at Cas. “Sam was so confident in his translation that he turned the paper in!” 

     “What did his teacher say?” Cas asks, wiping tears from his eyes so he can look at Dean clearly. 

     “Well my uncle taught the class, so he called Sam an ‘idjit’ and gave him a B-minus.” Dean laughs again, and they are back at Cas’ house. Dean steps out and once again opens the door for Cas, and this time, Cas merely pushes down a blush and thanks Dean. When Cas gets the front door unlocked, they step inside, Dean’s hand resting gently on the small of Cas’ back like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Cas decides that he doesn’t really mind. 

     When the door shuts behind them, Cas takes his camera to his room and returns to find Dean in the living room peeling off his shirt. Cas clears his throat, and when Dean turns, Cas swears he sees a blush on Dean’s face. 

     “Sorry,” he says, turning his back to Cas and looking at him over his shoulder. “I was trying to make us some coffee but I spilled it on my shirt. I wasn’t trying to seduce you this time, I swear.” Dean offers Cas a sheepish smile, and Cas rolls his eyes fondly. 

     “I think I have something you can wear,” Cas offers turning and returning a moment later with a shirt that he tosses to Dean. When Dean tugs it over his head and looks back to Cas, Cas can’t help but take him in with sweeping gaze, his stomach turning flips inside of him. Dean notices, of course he does. 

     “Cas objectifying me. I’m scandalized,” he teases with a wink, bringing a rather scandalous blush to Cas’ cheeks. 

     “I wasn’t objectifying you,” he says flicking his eyes back up to Dean’s.

     “You were staring,” Dean points out, and he’s not wrong. 

     “There’s a stain on the shirt,” Cas says with a shrug, and Dean laughs. 

     “Where? I don’t see any stains.” 

     “It’s there.” Dean grins at Cas, eyes locked on his frame as he moves across the room and plops down onto the couch, carefully avoiding Dean’s eyes. 

     “You’re a weird guy, Cas,” Dean says with a grin, crossing the room and sitting next to Cas. 

     “Is this you trying to convince me to have sex with you?” Cas asks, deadpan, but Dean laughs, that full-bellied, sounds-like-earth laugh. 

    “Is it working?”

     “Not at all.” 

     “Well damn.” Dean offers Cas a grin, and what can Cas do but smile back? “You’re a pretty cool guy, Cas.” 

     “That’s better.” 

     This time, Dean insists that Cas pick the movie so that Cas ‘watches the damn movie instead of Dean.’ Cas picks a nature documentary, and Dean throws his arm over the back of the couch behind Cas, mere inches from his shoulder, and don’t think for a second that they aren’t both hyperaware of this space. This time, it’s _Dean_ who doesn’t watch the movie, and who can blame him when there’s an adorable dork like Cas sitting right next to him, completely captivated by the pollination cycle of bees?

     “Hey, Cas,” Dean murmurs, and Cas looks over, eyes wide and blue and sweet. Dean can’t help it. He leans in slowly, giving Cas a chance to back away, to tell him no, but he doesn’t. Cas even meets him somewhere in the middle, his lips shy and gentle. This time, it is Dean who pulls away, his arm dropping around Cas’ shoulders and keeping him close. Dean’s eye are closed, his forehead resting against Cas’. “Can I ask you a question?” Dean asks after a moment, and he feels Cas nod against him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, it’s just…Why don’t you want to have sex with me? I mean, your brother obviously thought it was something you’d be into, but…are you just not attracted to me?” 

     “No, _no,_ Dean. You are extremely aesthetically pleasing.” 

     “Then what’s the problem?” Dean pulls away, blinking earnestly at Cas while Cas chews his lip. 

     “There’s no problem…It’s just…I’m ace.” 

     “Ace?” 

     “Yes, asexual. It means, in a very broad definition, that I don’t like sex, that I’m not interested in it.” 

     “At all?”

     “At all.” 

     “Wow…have you ever…?” and Cas nods. 

     “A few times, actually,” Cas says with a shrug. 

     “But I thought you just said you weren’t interested in sex,” Dean asks, his eye brows pulled together as he tries to understand. 

     “I’m not...but for a long time, I thought I was broken. I didn’t want to be broken, so I forced myself to have sex. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone I was ever with could always tell that I wasn’t enjoying it…” Cas remembers the way Dean looked at him earlier, that exasperation and annoyance blatant on his face. “Even so,” Cas starts, anything to get that look out of his mind. He doesn’t want to remember Dean looking at him like that. “Sometimes asexuals agree to have sex, be it for their own libido or their partner’s fulfilment or just for the hell of it sometimes, and even beyond that, many asexuals do enjoy a few acts that would fall under ‘sexual.’ The line is different for everyone.” 

     “What about you?” 

     “What about me?" 

     “Where’s your line?” Dean is looking at Cas curiously, his eyes wide and green and shining in the light of the TV neither of them are watching. 

     “Soft kisses, cuddling…pretty much anything an old married couple who secretly hate each other would be comfortable doing.” Cas offers a smile, and Dean grins. They stare at each other for a while until Dean looks away and lets out a low whistle. 

     “I don’t think I could survive without sex,” Dean says with a small laugh. A moment of silence passes and a knife twists in Cas’ gut because of course not…then Dean speaks again. “It is literally my bread and butter,” and this time, Cas laughs too. 

     “Do you like your job, Dean?” Cas asks after a moment, staring at Dean through the darkness of their homemade movie theater. 

     “Not really…” Dean admits, and Cas’ eyebrows pull together. 

     “Well, why don’t you just quit?” 

     “Gotta put baby brother through school somehow… I got my GED instead of a diploma, and college is something I can’t afford without a job. I figure there’s a few things that can earn quick money for a face like this.” Dean is trying to joke, Cas knows, but it falls flat. Cas doesn’t say anything in hopes that Dean will continue, and he doesn’t disappoint. “I used to love it. All the sex I could ever ask for, never any strings attached, _and_ I got paid for it. But now I see that…I’m just an object to them, a toy or a game. It’s a fucked up business, Cas,” Dean says, his fingers toying idly with the fabric of Cas’ shirt. 

     “Will you tell me about yourself, Dean?” Cas ask his nose brushing Dean’s jaw for how close they are sitting, and this time, Dean smiles softly. 

     “Sure, Cas,” he says, and so he does, starting all the way at the beginning. “My mom died when I was four…house fire." 

     “That’s terrible,” Cas murmurs, and Dean nods. 

     “I miss her a lot, even still.”

     “That’s only reasonable,” Cas says, and Dean’s eyes fall. Cas takes the hand of Dean’s that isn’t holding his shoulder into both of his and squeezes. “My parents kicked me out for liking men, and I still miss them. Parents are people you never stop missing, as much as you’d like to.” 

     “Is that why you aren’t close with your other siblings? Because your parents kicked you out?” Dean asks softly, and Cas nods. 

     “Gabriel is bisexual and had been kicked out two years earlier for coming out. I hadn’t heard from him in months when I came out, but that very night, he picked me up on the side of the street without a word and took me back to his place. We’ve been in California ever since.” 

     “I moved here with Sam. It was follow him halfway across the country or stay in Kansas by myself in a house that both of my parents had lived and died in. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.” 

     “I bet Sam is grateful.” 

     “He’s not _ungrateful_ ,” Dean says with a shrug. “Never really says thank you. I don’t expect him to either. He’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.” 

     “He’s grateful,” Cas assures, giving Dean’s hand another squeeze. “Often times, it’s hard to tell our big brothers just how grateful we are to them, _for_ them.” 

     “Don’t worry. Difficulty sharing feelings is a two way street,” he murmurs quietly, and Cas nods, eyes falling to their entwined hands as a roll of heat pushes through him. He is warm with Dean, content as he’s ever been, and Dean is being paid for it. Cas pushes closer to Dean, and they both fall silent. 

     Eventually, they fall asleep like that, Cas’ nose buried in Dean’s neck, Dean’s cheek resting atop Cas’ hair, their hands entwined between their laps. It is a nice rest, one that leaves them both cozy when they are drawn into waking by a passing vehicle honking its horn. Dean grunts as he awakes, his hand uncurling from Cas’ shoulders to stretch above his head and rub down his face. Cas sits up as well, his hair flattened against his skull from Dean’s face. Cas watches Dean blearily as he yawns, his arm muscles tightening as he stretches. 

     “Dean,” he says sheepishly, staring over at the sleepy-eyed man before him. 

     “Yeah, Cas?” Dean asks, roaring out another yawn after his words. 

     “How...I mean…what time does your shift end tomorrow?” he asks, and Dean offers a small smile. 

     “I’m paid until 10 in the morning,” Dean says, and Cas shifts uncomfortably. 

     “My brother will likely be back before then, and…well, I don’t want him to think his gift wasn’t appreciated.” Cas shifts uncomfortably again. 

     “Spit it out, Cas,” Dean says teasingly, a gentleness in his face. 

     “It’s just…I know the couch isn’t very comfortable, and I know you ha—” Then Dean is close and pressing his lips to Cas’ softly, gently, exactly as Cas said he liked to be kissed, and the words get lost somewhere between the two. 

     “Let’s go to bed,” Dean murmurs when Cas pulls away, and for this, Cas is very, _very_ grateful. Cas pulls Dean to the bedroom by his hand, brushing away the confetti from his bed and crawling in. Dean peels down the covers and curls up behind Cas, an arm slung low and tight around his waist. “Goodnight, Cas,” Dean mutters, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Cas’ neck. Cas is impossibly warm as he drifts back to sleep. 

     When Cas awakes again, his alarm clock reads 10:04, and he is alone. The wave of sadness and disappointment that washes over him is surprising in its magnitude. Apparently, Cas had been _very_ smitten with the green eyed man named Dean. Not only that, but some small part of him had felt, despite it being a job, despite Cas being ace, despite it all, that Dean might still be here when he woke up… But he was wrong, and so he pulls the covers higher around him, pretends he never felt as warm and content as he had last night, and tries to go back to sleep around the disappointment. 

     The door to his room creaks open, and he burrows further beneath his blankets. 

     “Go away, Gabriel,” he says, his voice cracking for some indiscernible reason. Not because he wanted Dean to stay. Fuck that. 

     “Not Gabriel,” the intruder says, and suddenly, the heat is back around him, swallowing him whole with the arms wrapped low around his waist. 

     “I thought you left,” Cas whispers, rolling over and staring at Dean, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

     “Just had to pee,” Dean murmurs, pressing his face into Cas’ shoulder, his breath ghosting across Cas’ skin. Dean is snoring in seconds, and Cas could cry at the relief. When Dean awakes again, Cas has not closed his eyes. “Why are you staring at me?” Dean asks, one eye open so he can look at Cas looking at him. 

     “I can’t pay for this, you know. You’re a _high end_ prostitute.” He had been trying for humor, but the question is still there, still loud. _Are you here for the money?_ Dean snorts and closes his eye. 

     “Not here for the money, Cas,” he says, hugging Cas closer to him as though he’d been reading his mind. “Just here cause I wanna be.” Cas swears Dean is almost asleep by the time he finds the nerve to speak again. 

     “Why, Dean?” he asks, and once again, the question is loud. _Why me?_

     “Because you’re cool and funny and handsome,” Dean says, opening his eyes again and staring at Cas to let him know he’s serious. “Any other questions?” Dean grins a bit, but Cas is not in the mood. Too much is hanging in the balance. 

     “I’m not interested in sex, Dean,” he says, and the smile drops off Dean’s face. Here it is. Here’s the goodbye. 

     “I know that, Cas,” Dean says, reaching a hand up to Cas’ face, brushing softly over his cheeks. 

     “I’ll never be interested in sex.” 

     “I know that too, Cas. You underestimate my feelings for you. Twenty-four hours can do a number on a guy.” Dean smiles again, his hand still brushing across Cas’ face. 

     “I don’t think you understand,” Cas murmurs, his eyes falling from Dean’s, but his chin is quickly lifted, returning their eye-contact. 

     “I understand Cas. I don’t want sex.” 

     “You said earlier that you couldn’t live without it.” Cas distinctly remembers because the words felt like a knife to his chest. 

     “Yeah, well, I’ve gotten my fair share of sex.” Dean shrugs, blinking up to Cas with a soft smile. “It’ll be nice to not for a change.” 

     “Not? But what about your job?” 

     “What about it? I hate my job, and besides, it’s not the kind of job you want to have when you’re in a committed relationship.” Dean grins to Cas, and Cas can’t help the curve that presents itself on his lips in reply. 

     “Relationship, huh?” 

     “Only if you want it.” 

     “Shut up and kiss me.” So Dean does. Dean grins and leans forward and presses his lips to Cas’, an arm snaking around his waist to pull him closer, tight against his chest. They spend the rest of the morning like that, kissing and learning the other, never crossing the lines that aren’t meant to be crossed. When they are finally dragged apart, it’s because Gabriel is busting back into the door singing a song from some Disney movie. 

      _“I’ve been dreaming of a true love’s kiss,”_ he bellows from the living room before pushing open the door to Cas’ room. _“And a prince I’m hopi_ —whoa, Cassie, look at you go!” He lets out a low whistle upon spotting Dean in Cas’ bed. A blush runs across both their cheeks, but they only smile softly to each other. “Hey, I hope you’re not racking up my credit card bill!” He says, eyes widening, though for the sappy look on Cas’ face, he wouldn’t mind another grand or so being withdrawn from his credit card. 

     “Go away, Gabriel,” Cas says, still staring at Dean. Gabe huffs and turns to leave. “And thank you,” he calls, and Gabe smiles,his back to Cas. 

     “I hope you used protection,” he says instead of a simple _you’re welcome_ , and Cas groans, picking up a pillow and throwing it at Gabe, effectively getting him out of the room. Dean grins when Cas settles back near him. 

     “That’s big brother talk for ‘anything for you, baby bro,’” he says, and Cas grins. 

     “I don’t know how he’ll ever top this,” he says, and leans forward to kiss Dean. 

     “I know. I’m pretty amazing,” Dean says teasingly, and Cas snorts. 

     “Not you. He made me some damn fine birthday pancakes before you got here.” 

     “Oh, shut up,” Dean say with a grin, one that Cas matches tooth for tooth. 


End file.
